


bars and stripes

by hydrospanners



Series: renegade [4]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Backstory, Docember 2018, Gen, Guest Starring Another Companion, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 21:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16879707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrospanners/pseuds/hydrospanners
Summary: This isn't the first time Doc has impersonated an Imperial officer and it probably won't be the last. So long as his nervous alien friend doesn't get them caught, that is.





	bars and stripes

**Author's Note:**

> It's me, ya girl, shamelessly ripping off gags from M*A*S*H cause I can't help thinking of Doc every time I watch it.

“Wait, we’re going in there?”

 

Doc nodded, tugging at the stiff collar of his borrowed uniform. He’d forgotten how uncomfortable the damned things were. “I’m thirsty.”

 

“And I’m trying to get out of here without putting any new holes in this jacket,” his partner hissed back.

 

“No one’s going to shoot you. Trust me, Master Jedi. I’ve done this before.” 

 

“Do you wanna say that a little louder?” The Jedi mumbled, doing his best to duck his enormous Mon Calamari head behind Doc’s shoulders as the door swung open and two very knackered officers stumbled out, laughing and falling into each other. Doc raised two fingers to his forehead in a casual approximation of a salute, and they answered with blissful smiles and a gesture that was probably supposed to be a salute of their own. “That club is officer’s only, Doc,” the Jedi whispered urgently, tugging him back by the sleeve of his coat. “I am not an officer!”

 

“Hard to be an officer when you aren’t even in the army.”

 

“At least you have some bars on your collar,  _ Captain _ . We stole my uniform from a Corporal!”

 

“Borrowed,” Doc corrected. “We’ll take it back when we’re done. And anyway, no one’s going to notice. They’ll either be too drunk or too fixated on you being an alien.”

 

“I didn’t even think of that,” the Jedi whined. “No one’s gonna believe an alien is an officer.”

 

“It’s all about confidence. Just follow my lead and everything will be fine.” Doc reached up, popping a pin from his collar and attaching it to the Jedi’s. Then he sauntered toward the club without waiting for an answer. It was usually easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission. 

 

As bars went, it was fairly sedate. Utilitarian. Nearly identical to every other Imperial officer’s club he’d ever been in, which was a surprisingly high number for a man who’d never been an Imperial citizen. He leaned casually against the bar, relaxing onto his elbow and gesturing for the bartender droid’s attention. He ordered a Sullustan gin and tonic for both him and his partner and scanned the room.

 

“Relax,” Doc said, once the bartender had gone to fetch the gin. “We’re just a couple of officers having a drink. Same as the rest. They won’t be interested in you unless you give them a reason to be.”

 

“I’m an  _ alien _ ,” the Jedi hissed.

 

“Nobody will notice.” The droid returned with their cocktails promptly, and Doc took a slow sip. It was surprisingly good. “You’re going to need a name, you know. Can’t exactly call you—“

 

“ _ Wan _ . Call me  _ Wan _ . And that’s pretty rich, coming from you, Doc.”

 

“Not my fault your job doesn’t exist on this side,” he shrugged. “Wan.”

 

“Not so loud.”

 

Doc just grinned, sipping at his drink and relaxing into the bar. “You could’ve gone the other direction, y’know. Got some black robes, some big shoulder pads—“

 

The color drained from the Mon Calamari—from  _ Wan’s  _ face. “No! No way. Do you know what they would do if they caught me?”

 

“Probably no worse than what they’ll do if they catch you here.”

 

But Wan was shaking his head, eyes wide with real terror. “They’ll kill me if they catch me here. If they caught me doing that—“ He shuddered, visibly. “They might let me live.”

 

Doc didn’t need an explanation to know why that was worse. He’d heard plenty of stories, and after what he’d seen in their Medical Corps, he was pretty sure every one of them was true. “Calm down, Wan. No one’s going to catch you doing anything.”

 

Wan nodded, though his yellow skin was still a little dulled, and climbed up onto the bar stool next to Doc. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall directly across from him and held his whole body ramrod straight and unnaturally still. He was making his nerves very obvious, but it was almost working in his favor. The Imps always looked like they had sticks up their asses and right now, despite the fishy features, Wan looked like he fit right in.

 

“Keep that up and they might promote you,” Doc grinned, patting the Jedi on the shoulder. 

 

“Shut up,” Wan grimaced. “What are we even doing here?”

 

“I told you. I’m thirsty.”

 

Wan gave him a flat, unimpressed look Doc was starting to grow familiar with. It was a look he’d seen on hundreds of faces before and would likely see on thousands more before his time was up. “I can tell when you’re lying, y’know,” Wan said.

 

And Doc did know. He’d seen it with his own eyes, how people like Wan could do could smell a lie on the air, or fish the truth directly from a person’s mind. He just wasn’t sure he believed  _ Wan  _ could do it. Wan hadn’t been able to do much of anything else Jedi were supposed to be able to do.

 

“Fine. I’m looking for someone.”

 

“Please don’t tell me you have  _ friends _ here.” 

 

“I didn’t say it was a friend.”

 

“Enemies are even  _ worse _ , Doc.”

 

“He’s not an enemy, either. Just someone I’ve worked with before. Someone who can help us out of this mess.”

 

“The mess  _ you _ got us in.” Wan’s eyes danced nervously around the corners of the room. “Is that him over there?”

 

Doc shook his head, taking another sip from his drink. He’d hand it to the Imps; their officer’s clubs had much better stock than the swill they served on the other side. Just as long as you could forget the luxury of it was carried on the backs of slaves.

 

He’d found that wasn’t a detail he was able to forget.

 

“Are you sure? He’s watching us.”

 

Doc shook his head again. “He probably just thinks you’re pretty.”

 

“ _ Doc _ ,” Wan hissed, in that humorless tone of voice Doc knew so well.

 

He smiled into his glass. Wan jumped half out of his seat when the door swung open and a trio of officers filed in, their shoulders straight and expressions somber. Their eyes all danced over Wan, but none stuck. They were more interested in the bartender just now. None of their faces were familiar.

 

“Oh no.” Wan swallowed thickly, finding a way to sit up even straighter. “He’s coming over here.”

 

“Play hard to get,” Doc suggested.

 

Wan found it in himself to glare.

 

A firm hand settled on Doc’s shoulder, followed by a low, Imperial drawl. “Gentlemen,” the officer—a Major, from the hardware wrapped around his throat—offered them both a predatory smile. His breath stank of rum. “I couldn’t help noticing you over here.”

 

“I get that a lot,” Doc affected his own Imperial accent, smiling lazily. “And I’m flattered, really, but I’m taken.”

 

The Major’s smile didn’t falter, but there was something in the black of his eyes that told Doc he was not amused. “Noted,” he said. “I also noted that your friend’s jacket seems to have some stripes on it. Surely you are aware that this is the  _ officer’s _ club.”

 

“You’re very observant, Major.” 

 

“And you are aware that  _ corporals _ are not permitted in the  _ officer’s _ club.”

 

Doc shrugged, noting that they’d drawn a bit of attention. “He’s a Corporal Captain. Part of a pilot program from Vaiken. Something about finding a use for his kind in the Corps. We’ve got so many of them just sitting around, y’know, seems a shame to let ‘em go to waste.”

 

The Major examined Wan thoughtfully, his glazed over eyes scrunched up in concentration. “We already have a use for his kind,” he finally said, sneering. It was clear to everyone listening what use he was thinking of.

 

Doc nodded, taking another sip from his drink. He’d need three more of these at the rate this was going. “I reckon they’ve got their reasons up at Command, but Force knows they don’t share ‘em with me.” He gestured lamely to the Captain’s bars on his jacket. “Not my business. I just do what my orders tell me to.” He nudged Wan in the ribs. “Put that in the report, will you? We got another no.”

 

The Major nodded. “Indeed.”

 

“Well, thanks for your input, Sir. You’ve been a big help.”

 

The Major sniffed, like the very concept of helping was beneath him. “Very well,” he said. “Carry on, Gentlemen.”

 

Doc offered another lazy almost-salute which the Major turned his nose up at before retreating to his own table with the other, shinier folk. Enough brass to blind a man over in that corner.

 

Wan released a long, shuddering breath once he was gone. His shoulders slumped forward and his fingers curled on the bar, like he wanted to move more but was afraid to. Doc just nudged the untouched gin and tonic toward him.

 

“I hate you,” Wan said. He downed the drink in one long gulp.


End file.
